Vandrad the Viking, the Feud and the Spell eBook

Stooping low in the doorway, Estein entered the abode
of Andreas the hermit. Lit only by a small window
and the gleam of a driftwood fire, the rude apartment
was dusky and dim; yet there seemed nothing there
that should make the sea-king pause at the threshold.
Was it but a smoke wreath that he saw, and did the
wind rise with a sudden gust out of the stillness
of the evening? It seemed to him a face that
appeared and then vanished, and a far-off voice that
whispered a warning in his ear.

“Be not dismayed at our poverty; there is no
worse foeman within,” said Osla, with a touch
of raillery, as he stood for a moment irresolute.

Estein made no answer, but stepped quickly into the
room. Had he indeed heard a voice from beyond
the grave, or was it but the fancy of a wounded head?
The impression lingered so vividly that he stood in
a reverie, and the words of his hosts fell unheeded
on his ears. He knew the face, he had heard the
voice of old, but in the kaleidoscope of memory he
could see no name to fit them, no incident wherewith
they might be linked.

He was aroused by the voice of Osla.

“Let us give him food and drink quickly, father.
He is faint, and hears us not.”

The tumultuous stir of battle was forgotten as they
brought him supper and gently bound his wounds.
A kettle sang a drowsy song and seemed to lay a languid
spell upon him, and, as in a dream, he heard the hermit
offer up an evening prayer. The petitions, eloquent
and brief in his northern tongue, rose above the throbbing
of the roost outside, and died away into a prayerful
silence; and then, in the pleasant nicker of the firelight,
they parted till the morrow.

Estein and the hermit stepped out into the cool night.

“They who visit the Holy Isle must rest content
with hard pillows,” said Andreas. “Here
in this cell you will find a blanket and a couch of
stone. May Christ be with you through the night;”
and as he spoke he turned into his own bare apartment.

Estein looked upward at the stars shining as calmly
on him here as on the sea-king who lately paced his
long ship’s deck; he listened for a moment to
the roost rising higher and moaning more uneasily;
and then above both he saw a pair of dark blue eyes,
and heard a voice with just a touch of raillery in
it. As he bent his head and entered his cell,
he smiled to himself at the pleasantness of the vision.

CHAPTER IV.

Theislandspell.

The Holy Isle was bathed in morning sunshine, shadows
of light clouds chased each other over the hills across
the sound, and out beyond the headlands the blue sea
glimmered restfully.

On a bank of turf sloping to the rocks Estein sat
with Osla, drinking in the freshness of the air.
She had milked their solitary cow, baked cakes enough
for the day’s fare, and now, her simple housekeeping
over, she was free to entertain her guest.